Walsh: Brendan Bleeds
by ByronicAlbatross
Summary: The story of Shepard, from the beginning to the end. Part I of a several part series, minor AU. By Part II and on, extreme AU.
1. I: XO

_"The best place to begin is where it began." _

_Captain Raul Everett, when asked to respond to allegations of misconduct_

Arcturus Station. He'd had fond memories of the place; the highlights of his career (most of them, promotions) had occurred in the metallic confines of its recycled atmosphere. His most recent visit had been just after the action at Elysium, when the Alliance had sought fit to award him with the Alliance Cross accompanied by silver Second Lieutenant bars. He still had the Cross, but the silver bars had since been replaced by the gold of a Lt. Commander.

As he waited, one hand holding an emaciated duffel bag, his other adjusted the Cross on the chest of his dress uniform. Shifting from foot to foot, his hand roamed around his uniform, searching for any sort of dust or disarray. This new assignment was a big step up for him, and he was damn well going to make sure first impressions went smoothly.

Airlock decontamination is largely a formality on departure from cultural capitals such as Arcturus Station, where there is little chance of a dangerous contaminant being unknowingly brought aboard a ship, but the repetition of such standard protocol has always been believed to be the best way to ensure that it's followed when it counts. That and the Alliance bureaucrats would have a heart attack if SOP was deviated from, so close to their headquarters. Their breakdowns are not a pleasant sight.

At that thought, the Commander allowed for a small grin.

As the decontamination beam passed over him, he reached down once again to straighten his jacket. He couldn't simply hold still, eager and apprehensive of what lay beyond the airlock. His fingers twitched against his side, drumming a continuous beat.

"Logged. The executive officer is aboard. CO Anderson has the deck."

As the Shipboard VI concluded its announcement, the airlock doors slid open, the Commander took a deep breath, and he strode onto the Normandy,

The Commander stopped, confused. There was no one. He had expected a welcome committee. Down to his right, in C&C, there wasn't even a skeleton crew. Instead, all he saw was an empty, half lit series of consoles circled around the unoccupied Command Podium cresting the unlit galaxy map.

Something wasn't right. The orders the Commander had received were to report specifically... was he early? Unsure, The Commander lifted his free hand and lit his Omni-tool. The orange digits told him that he was… exactly on time, down to the minute. All ready to report, but with no one to report to, though come to think of it the VI had logged the Captain as aboard. The Commander stared at the empty C&C, and scratched his head, brushing the Omni-tool's interface against his hair.

He was pulled out of his befuddlement by a series of sounds originating from the cockpit. Shifting in a seat, the various beeps of an operating console, and the muffled curses of the man struggling with both. Turning, the Commander saw the back of a short man in basic alliance fatigues, complete with cap, sitting in the pilot's seat, busily struggling at a console. As the Commander faced him, the soldier seemed to register the VI's announcement, and he swiveled his chair around.

What greeted the Commander was a toothy grin splitting open a sickly face half buried amongst a thick, unkempt brown beard. Green eyes initially reflected frustration, until they registered the Commander's predicament. Reflected frustration quickly morphed to reflected amusement.

"So, you're our new XO, huh? Welcome aboard. Uh, sir." As the soldier finished speaking, he flopped his arm up in what he must have thought resembled a salute, which he barely held up long enough for the Commander to quickly return. The Commander responded, a bit off balance from the greeting.

"Commander Shepard. You the pilot?"

His grin not dropping an inch, the soldier leaned forward in his chair, puffing out in obvious pride.

"Flight Lieutenant Jeffrey Moreau, here to haul and kick ass from the comfort of this uncomfortable chair." Moreau gestured towards the console. "Currently, getting kicked myself. This girl here doesn't seem to want me on her. Or in her. Never could really tell which it was." His smirk lifted to a full smile momentarily, before he remembered himself and hastily added, "Sir."

This whole mess seemed out of place. Ordered by Captain Anderson to report for his new posting, and Shepard was hearing jokes instead of a briefing. Shepard sighed, frustrated at the situation. It wasn't like Anderson. Before he could ask where the Captain was, the man himself spoke up from behind Shepard.

"Joker," Anderson commanded, sighing, but still bemused. "That'll be all."

Shepard spun on his heel, mildly surprised that he hadn't noticed the Captain's entrance. In full dress blues, like Shepard, Anderson's wide, dark face showed just the faintest hint of amusement over top the stoic professionalism he always exhibited. Though underneath that Shepard could see a glimpse of… anxiety? Cataloging the thought for later, Shepard snapped to attention, which Anderson dismissed with a clipped salute.

"Welcome aboard, Commander. Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was held up." Anderson shifted his gaze to the pilot, who was still watching them. "Carry on, Joker."

With the same lazy salute he'd given the Commander, accompanied by a falsely fervent "aye, aye sir," Joker turned and resumed his tinkering (and cursing).

Anderson then turned his attention back to Shepard. "Follow me, Commander. We need to talk."

He turned and briskly walked towards C&C, and Shepard dutifully followed, bag in hand. As they exited C&C, and proceeded downwards towards the crew deck, Anderson spoke.

"Sorry about asking you here early, Commander. I'd hoped we could take advantage of the lack of crew for complete debrief."

"No trouble at all, sir." Shepard responded automatically, preoccupied. What could be bothering the Captain?

Anderson stopped at a door, which he opened with a wave of his Omni-tool, and he motioned Shepard inside. Shepard stepped into what appeared to be Anderson's nearly unfurnished quarters, to Anderson's usual Spartan standards.

After slipping past the commander, Anderson directed Shepard to a seat in front of a desk. Taking his seat behind the desk, Anderson quickly spoke.

"As you know, the SSV Normandy is an experimental stealth frigate, co developed by Alliance and Turian Hierarchy personnel. I have been selected as Captain, and I personally selected you to be my Executive Officer."

"Yes sir, and I'm grateful for the opportunity," Shepard responded, his genuine gratitude evident in his voice

"What you don't know is that the Citadel Council had a significant stake in funding the stealth drive's initial R&D and, as such, is sending along a spectre to observe our shakedown run." Anderson leaned back, eyes fixed on Shepard's face.

That wasn't good. Spectre's didn't answer to anyone except for the Council. "A Spectre, sir?"

Anderson heard the unasked question. "He doesn't have any official command. He'll be here just to observe. Understood?"

Something didn't add up. Spectre's were the Council's most elite operatives, the first and last line of defense for the Council's interests. Observing a shakedown run on an Alliance frigate wasn't the sort of mission they'd be sent on. Recon, assassinations, negotiations were more their prerogative.

"They're sending a Spectre just to observe? Isn't that a bit outside their job description, sir?"

Anderson didn't take the bait. "The Council doesn't seem to think so, neither does the Alliance brass. Have any other questions?"

Another thought struck Shepard. "What is he?"

At that, Anderson frowned. "Turian. I trust that won't be a problem, Commander?" Anderson's question bore the unmistakable tilt of a command.

Orders were orders. "No, sir."

At that, Anderson visibly relaxed. "Good. Now that that's settled," Anderson leaned down out of Shepard's view, and returned with a bottle and two glasses.

He poured a portion of amber fluid into each, and offered one to Shepard Shepard looked at it. What did Anderson think he was doing?

Noting his reluctance, Anderson said, "Relax, Shepard. It's non-alcoholic."

Still unenthusiastic, Shepard accepted the drink. Anderson eagerly looked at Shepard, until he resignedly took a sip. Appeased, Anderson leaned back in his chair.

"It's good to see you again, Shepard. How long has it been now, three years?" he asked, rigidly clutching his drink in hand, close to his chest. It looked like he was holding his jacket shut.

"About that, sir. It's an honor to finally serve under you." Shepard replied, placing his drink on the desk.

"it's good to have you here. I don't think I've ever had the opportunity to handpick my entire crew." Anderson sipped his drink, and sighed. "Really, I was lucky I was able to get a hold of you."

"I'd say, sir. Corsair's run under the radar, might have been heading to the Terminus. You were lucky to catch us on Elysium."

"That I was." Anderson lifted his glass to his mouth, and sipped. He tilted his head back, seemingly lost in thought.

"How've you been, Shepard? Doing alright?"

At that, Shepard tensed. Anderson's concern was touching, but unnecessary. "I'm fine," he said, with a bit more force than he'd meant. He took a breath before speaking again.

"It's been six years."

"I know, Shepard. I wasn't really thinking about that. Just general concern."

At that, Anderson finished his drink. With his glass emptied, he reached for Shepard's largely untouched glass. Shepard spoke, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Remember when we first met, sir?"

Anderson smiled. "I won't forget it. You put Ramirez in the hospital. And as I remember it, you broke a couple of his ribs."

Shepard smiled back, his eyes defocused in recollection. "You know, I don't even remember what the fight was about."

"It's not important, anyways. What matters is I saw a veteran marine, beaten by an eighteen-year-old with no formal combat training."

Shepard seemed lost in his own thoughts, smile gone. "I don't even remember fighting him," he said, half to himself.

Anderson's smile died with Shepard's.

Shepard shifted his gaze back to Anderson. "I don't remember much from back then." A short pause, then Shepard visibly brightened. "You met me at the precinct. I do remember that."

Anderson's smile quickly returned. "Do you know how much I had to pay to have the constable drop the charges?"

Shepard laughed. "I'm sure it was plenty, sir," he replied diplomatically. The number seemed to rise every time they had this conversation.

"Damn right it was plenty." Anderson leaned back, his mirth and voice quieting. "It was more than worth it. You earned it."

"I can't take all the credit. Couldn't have gotten where I am without you." Anderson's eyebrows furrowed. Shepard noticed. "I mean that."

Anderson emptied his glass, still looking dubious.. "Maybe so."

They sat for several minutes, glasses left on the desk, attention fixated on discussing old times. It had been a long time since they'd had a chance to catch up, and in the Alliance Navy, spare time was a rare luxury. When Anderson had reached his fourth drink, they were interrupted by the chirping of his omni-tool, a repetitive yet quiet ringing. He lit the tool, and disabled the alarm.

Anderson stood up, and Shepard stood with him. "It looks like its back to work," Anderson sighed.

"It seems so, sir." Shepard replied, waiting.

"Go stow your gear. Med-Bay's just across the deck; your quarters are adjacent to it. Afterwards, find Lieutenant Alenko. He has personnel assignments to discuss with you." He reached into his pocket, and withdrew and OSD, which he handed to Shepard. "Crew files. Reviewing them before you meet with the Lieutenant would be wise."

Shepard pocketed the OSD, and then saluted. "Aye, aye sir."

Anderson returned the salute, a faint smile on his lips. "Dismissed, Commander."

Picking up his bag, Shepard turned on his heel and walked out.

0o~o0

Shepard left his quarters, his bag and its contents stowed, as well as changed into a less formal set of Alliance fatigues. Running around dressed for parade wouldn't be the best first impression he could make on the crew, now that he had assumed command. It might give off the wrong impression. Departure hour was approaching, and the increase in crew arrivals underscored it. Shakedown was soon.

Shakedown. Something wasn't right; something Anderson hadn't told Shepard. A Spectre, even for a ship as unique as the Normandy, is not the sort of operative you send to observe a routine op like a shakedown. Shepard trusted Anderson, but still couldn't completely quash the anxiety of what was to come. He hated not knowing, and the waiting made it worse.

Before departure, Shepard had to go over personnel assignments with Staff Lieutenant Alenko. An easy enough job, one that wouldn't take very long. Shepard read the files Anderson had provided before coming aboard, and had already worked out the more intricate details. He was prepared.

He'd also taken the time to read Alenko's file. According to his record, Alenko was an excellent soldier, specifically skilled with technical weapons, with several special commendations for courage and excellence. More importantly, he was a talented biotic. Shepard had fought with biotic soldiers before, and appreciated the value of their abilities. Encountering a hostile biotic without one of his own to compensate was not an experience Shepard wanted to relive. Alenko would definitely be an extreme asset.

Shepard walked through the mess, and cut around the central elevator until he reached its entrance. He entered, and selected engineering as his destination on the elevator console. Slowly, the elevator descended.

The doors opened to reveal the cargo bay, a large, mostly empty storage space occasionally disrupted by the occasional secured crate or two. The largest breakage in the emptiness was the Mako tank, locked down on the mid starboard side of the bay. Underneath the tank was a man, busily adjusting something in its undercarriage. Judging by the aptitude and confidence in the soldier's adjustments, Shepard reasoned that he had found his man.

"Lieutenant Alenko?" Shepard asked as he stepped up next to the tank.

The Lieutenant quickly slid himself out from underneath the vehicle. Yes, it was Alenko. His dark hair and wide jaw matched the picture in his file. He pushed himself up, and saluted. Shepard returned it, and they both dropped their hands.

"Yes sir. The Captain told me you arrived." Alenko spoke in a raspy, nearly tired voice.

"Good, so you know why I'm here ."

Alenko withdrew a datapad from his side pocket. "Yes sir, I've already arranged the basic assignment schedule." He handed the datapad to Shepard.

Shepard scrolled through the names. Alenko was thorough. He'd carefully selected soldiers whose skills complemented each other and assigned them to the corresponding stations and work shifts. He'd also ensured that each unit had at least one soldier with three years experience. Not exactly what Shepard had arranged, but it was close enough.

"Good work, Lieutenant," Shepard said. "We'll run it your way."

"Thank you sir," Alenko replied. He paused, hesitation flashing across his face. "Sir, is it alright if I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

Another pause, Alenko seemed to carefully measure his words. "I was running through the manifest, and I noticed a surplus of dextro supplies, food and the like. Above regulation requirements." Another pause.

Shepard's face remained carefully neutral. "There a question in there somewhere, Lieutenant?"

Alenko inhaled, about to speak, when his eyes caught site of something behind Shepard. "Well, I'll be…"

Turning, Shepard saw the unmistakable form of a turian. He was geared in dark red armor, a lighter set, but had six different weapons strapped to his back and waist. The almost metallic skin of his avian face was covered in white paint, surrounded by a mahogany trim. What colony did that depict again?

Most importantly, he walked as straight and tall as anyone could possibly stride. A cold air of authority, and danger, seemed to emanate from him. As he strode past he threw a cold, calculating look at Shepard before he continued into the engine room, door hissing shut behind him.

Shepard turned back to Alenko. "You had a question, Lieutenant?"

Alenko snapped to attention. Surprised, but with a bit of a smile on his face. "No, sir."

Shepard saluted him. "At ease, Lieutenant." He glanced at Engineering before turning back towards Alenko. "Good catch."


	2. II: Shakeup

_ "I don't think Mr. Murphy likes me."_

_Boston Mayor Cynthia O'Hara's last words_

"Approaching the Arcturus Relay; ETA ten minutes. That's ten minutes to wait, brought to you by the Alliance Navy."

Apparently, Joker lived up to his name: he couldn't make a simple ship wide announcement over the comm without trying to crack wise. Sometimes he was even funny. Shepard leaned back and made a quick note to remind the Flight Lieutenant that he was an officer in the Alliance Navy, and thus should only joke when his CO wasn't listening.

He also could learn to watch when he shares his opinions. After meeting their resident turian after he had stopped to ask Joker about their course, Shepard overheard Joker complaining about the turian to the Captain. With surprising restraint, Anderson simply nodded and left the bridge. Shepard wouldn't have been so patient; the turian had barely left the bridge, and may have heard from the CIC. Last thing they needed was an antagonized spectre.

Nihlus, he corrected himself. The turian's name is Nihlus. Nihlus Kryik, Council Spectre. Shepard had never heard of him, but then again that was to be expected. Spectre's tend to operate under the radar, often avoiding or preventing their actions from reaching the public eye.

Even on the Normandy, Nihlus seemed to prefer remaining in the shadows. Shepard had seen him several times in the few hours it had taken to reach the Arcturus Relay, and in those few instances he had barely caught sight of him. He seemed to hang just at the edge of perception, watching the crew, watching Shepard. Frankly, it was unnerving. He didn't share this opinion with the Captain, however.

The doors parted, and Shepard stepped onto the CIC. To his right, Anderson was speaking in hushed tones to a bald man in officer's attire. Navigator Pressley; Shepard had met him shortly after he had encountered Alenko and their turian guest (it's _Nihlus_). A jittery man, who seemed to constantly lose composure, Pressley's file surprisingly had nothing but praise for him. Liberation of Shanxi, various engagements with Batarian raiders in the Traverse: he'd had nearly as much experience as Anderson. Despite this, he seemed on edge, particularly around Nihlus.

To his left, a young corporal with an apparent spring in his step approached him. Shepard turned to face him, returning the corporal's eager salute.

"Commander Shepard!" he gushed, dropping his salute. "It's an extreme honor to meet you sir. Corporal Jenkins, first ground team."

His brown eyes gleamed, practically vomiting enthusiasm. Shepard had seen similar looks in other recruits, the ones who hadn't seen blood yet. Dazzled by reputation, eager to please a legend. Shepard hated it.

"Something you need, Corporal?" Shepard asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. It wasn't the Corporal's fault, after all. What was he supposed to think, with what he'd probably heard?

"I just wanted to ask you about our mission sir, if that's alright, I'm _really _excited sir." Jenkins replied, hopeful.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Mission? Corporal, we're on a routine shakedown run, hardly something to get excited about."

"Yes sir, to Eden Prime. I know that sir." The words seemed to cascade out of him, like he couldn't contain them. "But sir, a _spectre_? The Council doesn't send spectres on routine shakedown ops. Something else has to be going on, sir."

"First time for everything Corporal. I've been informed that our mission is only a routine shakedown voyage with a not so routine observer."

He wasn't lying, but he had to agree with the Corporal. Something else was going on. Jenkins opened his mouth to speak, and Shepard cut him off quickly. He didn't want to mention his suspicions to the crew.

"End of discussion. Was there something else, Corporal?"

Jenkins paused, a conspiratorial grin on his face. "I understand perfectly, sir. I'll let you return to your duties." Before Shepard could respond, Jenkins had slipped through the doors to the crew deck. If his experience was any indicator, scuttlebutt was going to have a field day with Jenkins' assumptions. At least it would keep the crew on their toes. And ready, for whatever comes.

Damn, what time was it? Shepard quickly checked his omni-tool, and headed over to the bridge. He didn't want to miss the relay jump; from the cockpit, a jump is always a sight to see.

0o~o0

"Relay is in range… approaching relay now." Joker deftly adjusted his instrument panel. As he did so, Shepard looked ahead, out of the cockpit. What he saw was magnificent; even after seeing a relay jump dozens of times, he never tired of seeing them again. The protheans had eyes for beauty in their design; and the massive oscillating rings of the eezo core were certainly that.

"Relay is online…" The rings started to oscillate faster, as the ship approached. As they reached activation, the discs oscillating at massive velocity, the core lit up as it prepared to discharge them distances once man had only dreamed of.

"Three… two… one…" for a moment, Shepard was blinded by the light of the relay, and he was pushed back in his chair as the were flung halfway across the galaxy. Then, it was over.

"Thrusters… check. Navigation… check. Internal sink engage check… check. Drift… just under fifteen-hundred k."

Nihlus spoke behind them. Shepard had nearly forgotten he was there; the turian had arrived on the bridge shortly after Shepard, claiming he wished to "observe." He didn't specify what.

"Fifteen-hundred is good. Your captain will be pleased." Simple words, no trace of emotion. As he finished speaking, the turian (Nihlus, he had to remind himself) glanced once more at Shepard before walking back towards the C&C.

Joker flicked his controls, irritated. "I hate that guy."

Alenko, seated beside Joker, smirked. "Nihlus gave you a compliment. So you hate him."

Joker spun his chair towards Alenko, frustration evident. "You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way out of the bathroom? That's _good_. I just hit a target halfway across the galaxy the size of a pinhead. That's _incredible_."

He turned back to his console. "Besides, spectres are trouble. I don't like having them on board. Call me paranoid."

Alenko leaned back in his chair. "You're paranoid. The council helped fund this project, they have a right to keep an eye on their investment."

"That's the _official_ story, but only an idiot believes the official story."

Before Alenko could respond, Anderson's voice rose from Joker's console.

"Joker, status report."

Joker visibly straightened in his chair, as if the captain was physically present. His voice absent of its surly edge as he responded.

"Just cleared the mass relay captain. Stealth system's engaged. Everything looks solid."

"Good. Find a comm. buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports sent to Alliance brass _before_ we reach Eden Prime."

"Aye aye, sir. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is heading your way."

A pause.

"He's already here, Lieutenant." That couldn't be good. "Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing."

The line cut out, and Joker tilted his head Shepard's way.

"You get that Commander?"

Of course he got it. Anderson sounded angry, something must've gone wrong.

"I got it, thanks." As he walked away, he heard Joker and Alenko bantering.

"Is it just me, or does the captain _always_ sound pissed?"

"Only when he's talking to you."

Shepard hurried through C&C, stepping past Navigator Pressly. As he passed, he heard him anxiously speaking through an intercom.

"They're always on a mission, and we're getting dragged right along with it!" He sounded skittish, too much so for a man with his service record. Shepard scarcely had time to consider this before he reached the comm. room.

As the doors parted, Shepard saw the turian, Nihlus, standing at the far end of the circular room. His back was to the door, eyes fixated on a bright image of Eden Prime. He seemed to be studying the image, as if trying to find something hidden in the projection. His head perked at the sound of the door. As Shepard warily stepped inside, Nihlus spoke.

"Commander Shepard." He turned towards Shepard, arms folded across his chest, and looked him up and down. "I was hoping you'd get here first. It will give us the chance to talk."

"The Captain called me for a debriefing," Shepard said, hesitant. He could feel the turian measuring him with his gaze.

"He's on his way." He paused, before speaking again. "I'm interested in this world we're going to, Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful."

Shepard didn't know what he was getting at, but he did know that he didn't like guessing. "I've never been there," he responded, curtly.

Despite his non answer, Nihlus' seemed to seize the opportunity. "But you know of it. Serene, tranquil... safe. It's become something of a symbol for your people, hasn't it? Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them." He turned towards the display. "But how safe is it, really?"

He didn't like Nihlus, he didn't like the conversation. "If you have something to say, say it." He was careful to keep his hostility out of his voice.

"Your people are still newcomers, Shepard. The galaxy can be a very dangerous place." Nihlus turned to face Shepard. "Is the alliance truly ready for this?"

Shepard had been focused on Nihlius, but he hadn't missed the sound of Anderson's entry. Anderson met Nihlus' eyes before focusing on Shepard.

"I think it's time we tell the commander what's really going on.

Nihlus continued to stare at Shepard, seemingly looking for any sign of reaction. "This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run."

Shepard made a point of looking at Anderson. "Sir?"

He stepped forward, and turned towards Shepard. "We're making a covert pickup on Eden Prime. That's why we needed the stealth systems operational."

"What's the target?" Shepard asked.

Anderson turned and began walking towards Nihlus. "A research team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of beacon." He stopped next to Nihlus, and faced Shepard. "It was prothean."

Nihlus spoke. "Obviously this goes beyond mere human interests, commander. This discovery could affect all species in Council space."

Prothean technology. This was big, possibly galaxy altering. It certainly explained Nihlus' presence, though. It was against Council law for any Council race to withhold any prothean relic from other Council races. Everyone got a share from everybody, or else. "So Nihlus is here to observe our pickup?"

Nihlus almost smiled. Well, as close as he could without lips. "That's not the only reason I'm here, Commander."

"Nihlus wants to see you in action, Shepard," Anderson said. "He wants to evaluate you."

"I don't follow, sir."

"It's something the Alliance has been pushing for a long time. Humanity wants a larger role in shaping interstellar policy. We want more say with the Citadel council. The Spectres represent the Council's power and authority," he clasped his hands together. "If they accept a human into heir ranks, it will show how far the Alliance has come."

Nihlus interjected. "This will be the first of several missions together."

Realization dawned on Shepard. It was an extreme responsibility, an honor he didn't deserve, maybe didn't want. "Begging your pardon sir, but why me? There have to be other marines who are more qualified."

Though the question was directed at Anderson, Nihlus spoke. "Not many could survive what you went through on Akuze. You showed a remarkable will to live, a particularly useful talent. Your service afterwards has been exemplary." It was odd hearing complements from a turian. "That's why I put your name forward as a candidate for the spectres."

"You put my name forward? Why would a turian want a human in the spectres?" He asked, incredulous. The First Contact War was still recent, and old resentments died hard.

"Not all turians dislike humanity. Some of us can see the potential your species has, what you have to offer the rest of the galaxy – and to the spectres. We are an elite group, it is rare to find individuals with the skills we need." His eyes never left Shepard's. "I don't care that your human, Shepard. I only care that you can do the job."

"Will I still be with the Alliance," Shepard asked Anderson, "or will I have to resign my commission?"

Anderson smiled at that. "I understand your concern, Shepard. You'll keep your commission, but you won't necessarily answer to your superiors anymore. That is, if you get accepted."

Nihlus didn't even glance at Anderson, never looking away from Shepard. "You will be come a spectre, Shepard. I'm sure of it."

Shepard made a point of turning to Anderson. "I'll do my duty, sir." Anderson frowned, but besides that seemed to take the acceptance at face value.

"Of course you will, Shepard. Now, the beacon is located-"

"Captain," Joker's voice spoke over the comm, worried. "We just got a transmission from Eden Prime, you'll want to see this."

"On screen," Anderson replied, as he turned to face the vid screen, Shepard followed, as did Nihlus.

An explosion. Gunfire. He saw a man face the camera and attempt to speak, before another explosion rocked the screen and he was shoved down hard by a passing marine. The man managed to stand and shakily face the camera again, his eyes wild.

"We're under attack, taking heavy casualities. We need evac! We need help!" He dove to the ground again as another explosion detonated somewhere off camera. Shepard could see marines falling behind the man. The man screamed, the camera wildly spun and caught site of a massive ship, firing as it descended.

Then abruptly, it was over. Anderson looked pensive. "Pause and hold at 38.5."

The display jumped over several images before pausing at the ship that had appeared at the end of the recording. It was gargantuan, bearing towards the camera. Four titanic tendrils seemed to grasp towards Shepard. He could feel a shiver down his spine.

Nihlus' expression didn't change, but his mandibles momentarily flailed outwards. He and Anderson locked eyes, before Anderson looked back at the display.

"Joker." Anderson barked.

"Thirty minutes out captain, stealth still engaged," Joker immediately responded.

Anderson looked at Shepard. If he had looked apprehensive before the mission, he didn't look now. He was collected and in control, but Shepard saw something in the back of Anderson's eyes that he had only seen once before.

"Take us in, Joker," he ordered, not taking his eyes off Shepard. "This mission just got a whole lot more complicated."


End file.
